The Angel's Return
by Emilie Rose
Summary: What if Christine had returned to Erik as he lay dying of love?
1. Chapter 1

**_Hi from Emilie Rose. This is chapter 1 of an_ Alternate Ending _to Monsieur Leroux's original masterpiece. The characters aren't mine. Enjoy!_**

_**The Angel's Return**_

My miserable existence was drawing to a close. By then, the daroga must have written to the newspaper about my death. If she was to keep her promise Oh, God, I prayed she would Christine would be on her way back to bury me.

I was so weak! I'd fallen out of bed several hours ago and hadn't the strength to get back up. The floor was terribly cold, to the point where I had begun to shiver violently.

Oh, when would the nightmare be over? I had endured over half a century of undeserved torture. Couldn't it just end without me having to suffer even more?

I felt completely helpless. Like an infant, I had soiled myself and had no means to crawl away from it.

Unable to control my emotions, I felt hot tears slide down my horrendously deformed face. Without even knowing it, I was whimpering in pain and misery.

To be utterly alone is the worst feeling in the world. It is a slow, agonizing death that is more painful than any physical wound. My loneliness was destroying me; I could feel myself slipping into a darkness from which there is no waking.

And then I heard the voice. It was soft and beautiful and vaguely familiar. I strained to clear my foggy brain and to understand the voice's words. "He said he would be in the LouisPhilippe room. Come, Raoul, let's get this over with." A door creaked open. "Oh, Erik, my poor, poor Erik!"

Footsteps moved toward me. I tried to call out, but was too weak to utter a sound. A warm hand was placed on my shoulder, and then came a gasp of surprise.

"He's alive!" Christine cried. "Oh, the poor thing! Look at the state he's in! Raoul, come here. Let's get him into the bed."

They lifted me carefully and moved me off of the floor. Once she had gotten me settled, Christine knelt by my side, stroking my forehead the way one might pet an ailing dog.

This, of course, was exactly what I was. Christine's beloved angel had become no more than a wounded animal, dying at her feet.

She spoke to me in a low, soothing tone. "Erik, wake up. Please, dear, open your eyes. I'm here now. Erik, it's Christine."

I had to let her know that I could hear her. With every bit of strength left to me, I forced open my hideous yellow eyes. Two tear-filled blue orbs stared down at me. "Hello, my angel," murmured Christine.

Taking a deep, gasping breath, I managed to choke out two words. "Love… you!"

"Oh, hush, dear." She let out a nervous little sigh. "Your teeth are chattering." My darling Christine laid an anxious hand across my clammy forehead. "You feel very feverish."

She's so beautiful! I thought. And so kind! Monsieur de Chagny is a lucky man, indeed.

"Erik, I'm going to fetch some things to make you more comfortable, alright? I'll be back in a moment." She gave my hand a brief squeeze and left.

Though Christine was gone, I could hear footsteps tapping up and down the room. Who else was here to see me in this wretched condition?

_**Did you like it so far?** **Someone has to tell me what they think before I write more.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Here's Chapter 2, ladies and gentle-dudes! I hope you enjoy it. By the way, I LOVE Howard McGillin. He's the best Phantom ever and really nice to hyperventilating fangirls. Believe me, I know.**_

_**Oh, and I still don't own the characters.**_

****

Although I hadn't the strength to lift my head, I stared around the room, trying to catch sight of this unknown person. There! There he was!

Had I not been so weak and ill, I would have screamed in anger. Monsieur le Vicomte Raoul de Chagny!

Just as I caught sight of him, Christine returned. She knelt be my side and laid a hand on my shoulder. "I'm back, Erik. Darling, what is it? You look upset."

Even though it hurt my throat terribly, I answered her. "Humiliating enough…you to see me…this way…Get him out."

"You want Raoul to leave?"

I nodded vigorously. Christine stood up and obediently shooed Raoul from the room. She then hurried back to my bedside and bundled me up in about a hundred blankets. "Oh, my poor Erik. You're shaking like a leaf! Do you feel any pain, angel? Tell Christine all about it," she cooed.

"I don't… want to… be…a bother."

"No, you aren't a bother. I'm just so glad I wasn't- too late!" She broke off and turned away to hide her tears. When she had composed herself, my angel turned back and asked me again how I felt.

"Well," I admitted, "I'm afraid I do… have a…terrible headache."

Christine reached for a bowl that she had brought into the room with her and drew out a cold wet cloth. She laid the compress across my sweating brow and pressed on it gently. "How does that feel?" she inquired.

"Wonderful," I answered. "Thank you so much."

Just then, a drop of cold water ran down my fevered cheek and I realized a terrible truth! Quickly, I covered my face with my hands and turned away from Christine.

"Erik," gasped the beautiful young woman hovering over me, "what is it, dear?"

"I'm so sorry!" I sobbed, my voice muffled by the pillows in which I had buried myself. "I forgot! I thought…I was wearing my mask! Please forgive me!...Letting you see this…horrid face!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," she told me firmly. As carefully as if I were made of glass, Christine turned me over to face her. "I think you're beautiful."

She said it so softly, I thought I had imagined it. But then she leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on my hollow cheek.

I smiled weakly at her as she patted my head. "You're safe now, angel," she assured me. "I won't let any more harm come to you."

For several minutes, we simply stared at each other, my chattering teeth the only sound between us.

Christine broke the silence, her voice the silver bell that chased away the silence of my solitude. "Have you been eating? You seem to have lost weight."

I shook my head. "I don't…think I have…the strength to chew," I mumbled, "I can…barely speak,…my throat is so raw."

"Well, I'll keep you on liquids until you get your strength back up, alright?" I was unsure of how to answer. It was a bit embarrassing to have Christine seeing me so helpless and feeble.

She could tell what I was thinking. "Easy, dear. Don't fret. I'll take care of you. Everything will be fine."

_**So how did you like part two?**_


	3. Chapter 3

**H'lo, everyone! Here's Chapter 3! Still don't own the characters, by the way. Enjoy! ****) (Happy Erik loves you!)**

Christine then hurried out of the room to find me some food. I wondered dimly whether the kitchen was clean. When had I been in there last? What had I done? Did I straighten up afterward?

No. I had left the kitchen a mess. Vaguely, I recalled staggering in there several days ago for a glass of water. It had been inhabitable anyway, and I'd spilled something all over the floor.

Of course! Me! Always so neat, so organized, and now Christine would think that I never even cleaned my kitchen!

As I worried about my filthy kitchen, Christine managed to fix me some thin broth. She brought it back to the room and pushed several pillows under my head and shoulders.

"Christine," I groaned as she sat on the edge of the bed, stirring the broth gently to cool it. "I am so…sorry."

Resting a hand on my burning cheek, she smiled sadly and inquired, "What has my little angel done now?"

"I must apologize…for the state in which…I have left my home…You mustn't think…I am always this…untidy."

Christine burst out laughing. "You're ill! Of course you aren't wasting your strength on housekeeping! Now, come on. I think you should have something in your stomach. You'll feel much better."

With one hand behind my head for support, Christine slowly spooned the broth into my mouth. It was all I could do not to choke on it. Swallowing was agony! After half a dozen spoonfuls, I simply could not go on. "Christine," I rasped, "please stop. I just can't…My throat is on fire…And I'm starting to feel…a bit…dizzy. May I lie down?"

"Oh, of course! Of course, my dear." She took away the extra pillows and helped me down into a horizontal position.

"Erik, you look so uncomfortable. Isn't there anything I can do to help you?"

"Your presence…is soothing enough…my angel."

"Well, that is terribly kind of you to say, but please let me do something." She thought for a moment, then said, "Let me wash you up a bit; bathe you. You won't even have to get out of bed."

I did not want her to take care of me in that manner. In her eyes, I wanted to appear strong and invulnerable to such mortal blows as illness. Of course, my last request to her would have led Christine to see my lifeless corpse, yet my soul would have already been gone. She would not have had to bear witness to the sufferings of the weakened man, Erik. And I would not have had to see her crying.

She was crying presently, as she pulled back the blankets that covered me and tenderly removed my sweat-soaked shirt. Ever so gently, she took a second cloth from the bowl of water that she had brought earlier and rubbed it on my neck and chest. However humiliating it was, the bathing was infinitely refreshing.

Though she was obviously horrified at how thin I had become in the past three weeks, Christine continued to move the cloth across my body. She worked her way down my arms and over each trembling finger.

The cloth soon reached my waistline and Christine became fully aware of how unclean I had allowed myself to become. She was silent for a moment, then she scooped my frail body into her arms and held me tightly. "Oh, my poor, poor Erik! You should have said something! Don't worry, darling. I'm here; everything will be fine." Christine, tears glistening in her sapphire eyes, laid me back against the mattress. She then kissed my forehead and stood. "I'll be back as soon as I find something dry to wear."

She was gone before I had a chance to protest. But no. I would not allow my little angel to change my clothing!

How had I sunk so low? How could I have gotten to this point; too weak to relieve myself properly and too miserable to care? Of course, the answer was obvious. Christine. It all came back to Christine. After she left with de Chagny, I had no desire to eat and I could not sleep. I wept for days on end, until there were no tears left. Exhausted, I lay on the bed in which she had once slept, clutching a dress I had purchased for my "wife". My wife! How could I have ever thought that an angel like her could love a monster such as me? I cared nothing for my own well-being any longer, and therefore let my health deteriorate. I was shattered mentally, as well. Christine Daaè was my last hope; my last chance at a life of peace after a lifetime of pain. She left me all alone in a darkness that had crushed the very life out of me.

At least it would soon. Or would it? Christine was back with me. She had told Raoul to go away when I asked her. I had long since come to terms with the fact that my angel would never have any true feelings for me, but was it possible for us to be friends? Just knowing that she was near made everything seem less frightening. I could easily survive, albeit unhappily, if Christine remained nearby.

My thoughts were interrupted as footsteps became clearly audible; Christine had returned. Ignoring the pain in my throat, I called to her. "Christine! Christine, please do not…do this…I beg of you…If you do…I shall die of…humiliation!"

"Darling, why? You're a mess. I have to clean you up."

"No, please!... Let me preserve…whatever…remains of my dignity."

"Erik, it's only me. You mustn't be so concerned about your dignity."

"No, Christine…You are the one person…for whom I must be brave. Above all,…you mustn't see me weakened or…helpless. I want to be…so strong for you…so perfect…everything I can never be…rich…handsome…"

"Shh. Stop talking, angel; you need to save your strength. And for heaven's sake, calm down. I will always think the world of you, and seeing you in this condition can't change that! It only pains me. Oh, Erik, I should never have left you!" She was stroking my horrible face, an experience that felt lovely, especially for someone as starved for affection as I. "Let me care of you. You mustn't be ashamed to accept my help. Please, Erik."

I did not resist, but said nothing.

Christine went to work, singing a lullaby that I had once sung to her. I tried to concentrate on her voice, but the humiliation I felt as she removed my soiled clothing made me want to cry. I wished I could just crawl away under the bed and die.

She began to clean me the way one would wash a useless infant. I could not bear all that was happening. Being so ill, Christine's return, the loving treatment I was receiving at her hands- My heart was bursting with both love and misery! Helplessly, I began to sob.

The next thing I knew, my head was in her lap and dear Christine was softly kissing my face. "Hush, angel," she whispered. "Everything will be alright. Just let me finish cleaning you, and then we can rest a bit."

She dried my eyes, then returned to her task and her song. I lay in silence, thoroughly ashamed of my situation as Christine helped me into a clean pair of trousers.

**What do you think? Please let me know!**


	4. Chapter 4

**And so I say again, I own nothing. Read on! Read on!**

Five minutes later, I was buried under a fluffy mountain of blankets that could not stop the fever-induced chills running through my frail body.

Christine bathed my throbbing temples with a freshly moistened compress. She continued to sing to me, changing songs now and then and pausing often to press a gentle kiss to my sweating forehead.

I attempted to focus my dizzy brain on the angelic music, yet concentrating was difficult. Most of my thoughts were occupied by how terribly ill I felt. The aches that I had been experiencing for several days were now compounded with the awful sensation of being sick to my stomach. I could not remember the last time I had a stomachache, but this one was terrible. The horrid churning sensation just below my navel was rising up toward my throat, but I would rather have died than vomited on Christine. I moaned involuntarily, stopping Christine's song.

"What is it, Erik? Are you alright?"

"Yes…I-I'm fine."

"Please, angel, tell me what's wrong."

I had to admit to her how miserable I felt in case I actually became ill. Feeling my face go red with shame, I whispered, "I…I feel…slightly…nauseous."

"Well, should I get you something to be sick into?"

"No…maybe."

"Alright. You wait here and take some deep breaths. I'll be back in a moment."

She left after swiftly kissing my cheek. I lay unmoving until she returned. Hen she did, Christine resumed the gentle stroking of my aching head, telling me to alert her should I feel the need to vomit.

In ten minutes' time, I could no longer fight the urge pressing so strongly against me. Taking a shuddering breath, I groaned the name of the person in the world dearest to me; "Christine!"

"Alright, angel, I'm here. Are you going to be ill?" I nodded, tears of humiliation pooling in my yellow eyes. "Alright."

She rolled me onto my side and placed my head on the very edge of the mattress. With one hand, Christine held an empty bowl under my mouth; the other she placed on my trembling shoulder. "Alright, dear. Go ahead. I'm here for you. Easy now."

My stomach lurched. I coughed deeply and began retching. Christine thumped me gently on the back and whispered words of encouragement and comfort until I had composed myself.

Once I had managed to stop vomiting, Christine lifted my chin and pressed a glass of water to my lips. "Swish this around your mouth and spit into the bowl. It'll get the taste out."

I followed her instructions, trying not to look at the regurgitated broth as I spat. Christine then took a handkerchief and wiped bits of sick out of the monstrous hole that served as my nose.

After that, she simply held me. She pulled me against her warm, soft body and rocked me slowly side to side. I let my head slump against her shoulder. God, I loved her so!

"You poor thing," Christine murmured, kissing me tenderly. "Is there anything I can do for you, Erik?"

"Don't let go," I breathed. "Please."

"Of course I won't," she answered. "I'm here to hold you forever and ever. I promise I will never leave you again."

Still holding me against her, she pressed a cold compress against my sweating face. "Do you feel any better?"

"My stomach does…a bit. But my…head is…pounding. And I…am so…so tired."

"Then go to sleep. Here, put your head in my lap." She adjusted my position and pulled the blankets up to my chin.

"Thank you, angel…I love you." My throat was too sore to allow any more speech.

"Hush now, Erik. You must sleep. Would you like me to sing to you?"

I nodded, smiling weakly at her.

And so she sang, petting my face tenderly as she did. Within a matter of minutes, I had drifted into the deepest, most peaceful sleep I had had in years.

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Ooh! P.S. Emilie Rose loves reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, Everyone! These are not my characters. Have fun reading!**

Yet as I slept, my fever rose dramatically. I sank into a terrible darkness from which I could not wake. The black haze was all around me, and it frightened me to no end. I knew nothing but this painful sea in which I would surely drown; not my name, nor my ugliness- nothing.

Only one thing saved me from death- the angel. I knew she had to be an angel, for no mortal could have such a beautiful voice. I had no idea what she looked like because I did not possess the strength to open my eyes. Through my burning pain and misery, however, I could hear her lovely voice. Sometimes, I felt something refreshingly cool on my hot skin and felt sure it was the angel's work. There were times when a warm liquid would be spooned into my mouth, and I would try my hardest to swallow it- which was not half as difficult as keeping it down- because I knew the angel wished it.

For days…no, weeks…or was it years?...I couldn't tell…I fought through the dark sea that was threatening to destroy me. The angel was always there aiding me and, thus, I survived.

One day, I found within my failing body the strength to open my eyes. The angel was standing over me- it must have been her! She looked exactly as I had imagined; long golden curls framing a pale face with pink tinted cheeks, large sapphire eyes, a perfect look of innocence and compassion on her rose-coloured lips.

"Hello, Erik," she murmured.

_Erik. Is that my name?_ I thought. _It must be._

She laid her hand gently on my face; it felt warm and wonderful. _Are angels warm?_ I wondered. _She feels so real. _Though it was difficult, I began to speak to her.

"A- Are you an angel?"

She laughed warmly and kissed my forehead. "If you say so, dear."

"N- No. I'm…asking y-you. Are…you?"

The angel looked at me worriedly and whispered, "Of course not."

"Do you...have a n-name?"

She appeared shocked at the question, though I was not sure why. "Erik, this isn't funny."

"I'm…not joking. Wh-What is your…name?"

"Oh, God, Erik, it's Christine! Don't you recognize your little Christine?" I stared at her blankly. "Erik, do you honestly have no idea who I am?"

I thought very hard, but that only made my head ache. Who was this woman? Did I really know her? Christine. Who did I know by that name? I shook my head. "I-I'm sorry. Are you one of…my mother's friends?...Where is she?" I suddenly became panicked. "Where is my mother!?"

"Shh. Hush, Erik. I'm here to take care of you."

"No. No! I want my mother! Wh-Where is she!?" Tears burned in my eyes as I called for my mother. Where was she? Why was she not here? I needed her!

"Stop it, Erik. Please!"

I heard the angel speaking, but could not understand her words. Frightened for some reason known only to my fevered brain, I began to sob, choking disconnected phrases through gasping breaths. "Mother! Oh, Mama, where are you?... Don't hurt me! …I don't want to be locked up again!...Mother!" Near hysterics, I clutched at the angel's sleeve. "Mother…Mother…" As the angel leaned down to kiss me, I fainted.

**Please review and come back soon!**

**Emilie Rose**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yippee! I'm starting to type faster! I want to have this finished before I start school on Thursday. Luck with that, huh? Read on, and I still don't own anything…**

When I awoke, I was lying on cold, hard earth. My ankles were bound together by a length of coarse rope and I was clothed in nothing but a tattered and filthy pair of trousers. I was enclosed in a small showcase, approximately six feet in length and width. Three walls were made of splintering, knotted wood, while the fourth was comprised of metal bars.

I lifted my throbbing head to see a large man standing over me. "Well, well, well, awake at last, you mangy dog?"

I put my arms over my face, waiting for the attack. It came. The whip came down on my back time after time, leaving me a sobbing wreck, huddled pathetically on the floor of my cage.

Soon, the man walked away, and I looked up to make sure that I was alone. I was not.

The angel was watching me. I smiled at her, hoping that she had come to patch up the deep wounds on my back.

Of course, that would have been an act of kindness. No one was ever kind to me; she was no exception. "You monster," she snarled. "Why are you even alive? Never in my life could I have imagined something as ugly and disgusting as you could exist."

And with that, she gave me several fierce kicks. I didn't understand. I had trusted the angel! Why was she hurting me? What had I done to her?

Too weak and beaten to open my eyes, I listened as more footsteps approached. I could hear my mother screaming at me. "You beast! How could I have given birth to such a loathsome animal? Why did I not drown you at once? I hate you!"

She said more, but I could not hear the exact words. I tried to crawl away from them, begging for mercy. "Stop! Please stop! God, don't hurt me!"

"_Erik! Erik, wake up! Stop! I won't hurt you. Erik, it's Christine!"_

I woke up drenched in a cold sweat, screaming like a madman. Hearing the voice of the angel- what had she called herself?- Christine?- I threw my arms around her neck and wept into her shoulder.

**Hi… Yeah, I know it's exceedingly short. I'll have more ready soon. Oh, and PLEASE keep reviewing! Thanks.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Don't own anything. Hope you enjoy!**

She rocked me back and forth, whispering words of comfort to me until I relaxed. Once I had stopped crying, she forced some warm broth down my throat.

"Here, Erik. You need this to get your strength back up." With great difficulty, I swallowed the liquid. "Very good." Looking into my fever-glazed eyes, she whispered, "Do you know who I am, darling?"

"Y-You said your…name is C-Christine."

She did not answer, though she seemed displeased with my response.

Tenderly, Christine laid me on the bed and told me to rest. I tried, but my head was throbbing so painfully that not even her beautiful voice could calm me.

Soon I began to feel dreadfully ill; it felt as if an angry snake was writhing about in my stomach. When I was sure I could no longer keep the snake at bay, I called to the angel. "Mademoiselle? Christine?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I- I am about…to be ill, I think."

"Alright, Erik. Here, let me help you sit up." She lifted me partially up, propping my limp form against her shoulder.

The snake within me bit at my insides and rushed up into my mouth. Reaching around me, the angel held a towel under my chin. I belched loudly, sick liquid and undigested broth coming up with it. Between convulsions of retching, I could hear that beautiful voice singing to me. She sang until I had completely exhausted myself.

When I had regained my composure, the angel stood and disposed of the vomit-sodden towel. She returned, settled me back against my pillows, and wiped my face free of sick.

She then pressed her hand against my forehead. "Oh, Erik, you're still burning up! Try to sleep, my angel."

I closed my eyes, listened to her angelic voice, felt her warm, soft hand on my face, and soon fell into a restless sleep.

**Yes, friends, short and not too sweet, but don't worry, the next chapter's better.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here we go! Last chapter! Just a quick speech before we get started…**

**For those of you who consider this whole thing medically improbable, it is. But according to Leroux, he survived a life of abuse and beatings without obvious lasting physical damage, he can work on his opera for two weeks at a time without food, drink, or sleep, and as soon as his dear Christine walks out on him, he curls up in a ball and dies of love. If that's not medically improbable, I don't know what is. So blame Leroux, okay?**

**Still don't own anything.**

I woke from my nightmare-filled slumber, feeling a bit better than I had the last time I had been awake. For one thing, that dreadful nausea had subsided. I also did not feel nearly as cold as I had before.

And of course there was the added benefit of my beloved Christine hovering over me, an anxious, loving look on her adorably perfect features.

She saw my eyes open and smiled. "Hello, Erik."

"Hello, my love."

"Darling, do you recognize me?"

"What?" I inquired, confused. I could never forget my little angel, even if she had forgotten me. The last several times I had woken, Christine had not been there. Someone had been at my side, but it was not her.

"Of course I recognize you. Christine, where have you been?" Suddenly, I felt a hard lump rise in my throat, but I swallowed it and blinked to restrain the tears that had sprung up in the corners of my hideously ugly eyes. "And who has been down here with me?"

"Angel, I've been here the entire time. Just me."

She was lying to me! "That's not true!" I almost sobbed. "I saw her!"

"Shh. Erik, it was me. I swear I never left this house."

"Y-You? Why did I not know?"

"I tried to tell you. You had a terrible fever and you were delirious. Your mind was…not right. You had no idea who I was."

"Good Lord," I whispered. "I hadn't realized… How long was I like that?"

"Seven days," came the unexpected response. "Oh, Erik! There were times when I truly thought I had lost you!"

"Well, then at least you could have gone back to your darling Raoul," I muttered sadly. "Tell me, when is the wedding?"

"That depends on you," she murmured.

"Why?"

"Do you still love me, Erik?" asked Christine.

"Angel, I will always love you."

"Then I shall never marry him. Oh, Erik, those three weeks without you- I nearly died! I missed you terribly. And I felt so guilty about deserting you! I understand now, Erik. I love you. All this time… I've always loved you."

"C- Christine, do you mean this?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I've explained it all to Raoul- he understands, Erik. He won't pester us any more. I'm here to stay with you forever, Erik. I love you."

Slowly, Christine bent over me and kissed me on the lips. Though I was stunned at first, I kissed her back eagerly. She opened her mouth slightly and our kiss deepened. I let out a soft groan of pure joy as Christine Daaè, the love of my life, leaned against my bed, held me in her arms, and kissed me with all her heart and soul.

Our tongues were entwined with each other as I ran my fingers through her golden hair. I could feel her arm around my waist and her hand at the nape of my neck. It was impossible that I could be this close to her and not have fainted, was it not? Perhaps I would faint; I felt quite dizzy.

Suddenly, Christine pulled away from me. I was instantly terrified that I had gone too far and that she was angry with me. "Angel, what have I done?"

"Oh, Erik, are you alright? Why are you crying?"

"Am I? I hadn't noticed. Oh, Christine, I am just so happy to have you with me. I love you. God, I love you!"

"Shh. I'm here now. I love you, too. Erik, everything will be alright." She paused and laid a hand on my forehead. "You still feel a bit warm. Here, lie down again." Gently, Christine helped me adjust myself in the bed and pulled the blankets up to my chin.

"I need you to get well, Erik. You'll be just fine if you rest in the house for a while. Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"Thank you, Christine." I smiled weakly at her. As I watched her, a frightening, exciting idea suddenly occurred to me.

"I… I doubt, my dear, if you are interested- if you would want to- but I- my marriage proposal still stands… should you care to accept…"

"Erik, why do you think I still wear this?" She showed me her left hand, which bore the plain gold ring I had once given her. "Oh, my darling little husband, of course I'll marry you! But only if you promise to behave, eat right, and get enough sleep. Do you promise?"

I burst out laughing. It was not the cruel, humorless laugh of the Opera Ghost; it was my actual laugh, which had not been employed for… oh, I had no idea how many years! "Yes, dear, I promise."

"Wonderful. Are you comfortable?"

I nodded.

Christine leaned very close to me. "Erik, I love you more than life itself."

"I love you more than I could ever possibly tell you, my angel," I answered.

"Then don't speak," Christine murmured as she leaned down to kiss me again.

**And the lived happily ever after! Okay, I'm finished. What did you think? Let me know either way, and if you liked it, please check out my other stories. :)**

**Love to all my readers!**

**Emilie Rose**


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